


Fortitude

by ToriCeratops



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: First Time, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:17:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1725842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/pseuds/ToriCeratops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky doesn't know when the shift from ‘safe place to crash’ towards ‘home’ happened, but he knew it was all Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fortitude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twilightscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightscribe/gifts).



It’s been months.

Months of quiet moments together, stolen kisses, quiet touches, nights wrapped up in safe arms and so many damn back and forths Bucky’s surprised Sam’s head isn’t in a constant state of spin.  He’s the most patient man Buck has ever met and given that his best friend is Steve fucking Rogers, that’s saying something.  

The first time he’d crawled into bed with Sam they hadn’t even really been together yet.  He was just crashing there when he was in a better head space than normal but needing to not be around Steve and everything he represented to Bucky’s life.  Which was a lot, and way too fucking much to deal with some of the time.  So he was told under no uncertain terms one night to stay on the couch, to not go anywhere else because he was safe there and Sam wasn’t taking a no for an answer.  And Bucky had listened - for one night anyway.  Then a few weeks later for two nights in a row.  Eventually he was there more than he wasn’t and while he wasn’t sure where the shift from ‘safe place to crash’ towards ‘home’ happened, but he knew it was all Sam.

He’d had a nightmare, which wasn’t unusual.  Flashes of light, explosions and blood, too much blood, were all expected most nights.  Bucky had been half way to Sam’s room before he was fully awake, about to turn around and head back when Sam simply told him to stay.  

So Bucky had.

 

Now he has half a dresser to himself, though he doesn’t really use all of it.  There’s a few inches in the closet if he needs it.  But again, there’s really nothing to put in there.  His favorite cereal never runs out in the cabinet, he’s got a coffee mug that no one uses but him, and he picked out the last type of toothpaste they bought.

It’s early in the morning, the sun barely even peaking through the blinds in their bedroom - yes, their bedroom, and isn’t that a weird thought - and Sam is still asleep, arms cradled under his pillow, face down in the bed.  Bucky leans against the door jam between there and the bathroom just watching him for what feels like a long time.

"Are you just gonna creep over there all morning?"  Sam’s voice is cracked and tired but amused and Bucky smiles, finally moving into the room again.  He kneels onto the bed as Sam stretches, dark skin and toned muscles moving under the soft stream of light that’s finally pouring into the room.  Before Sam can twist around though Bucky straddles his hips, leans forward with his weight on his left arm and slides his right hand along the well defined lines of Sam’s back.  He traces the muscles there, well earned through years of flight and hard work, all while pressing careful and fluttering kisses to the top of his spine.  Sam hums in response, shifting a little and reacting to Bucky’s touches in all the best ways.  

"Hmm, much better than creeping."

"Thought so."  

His kisses become less teasing and gain more intention in their placement - the base of his neck, the soft pulse point behind Sam’s ear, the top of his shoulder.  Just as he slips his fingers below the line of Sam’s boxers - only to caress the lines of his hips that he can reach - he drags his teeth carefully along the tendon in his neck.  Sam sucks in a long breath, rolling easily under Bucky to look up at him.  Though he doesn’t say anything, there are dozens of questions in his eyes, underlined with his own desires and needs but focused entirely on Bucky.

Bucky nods, lips trembling but smiling carefully, and Sam’s grin goes wide as he lifts to give him a tender kiss.

This is what Sam has always been for him.  A silent, steady rock, that doesn’t ask and doesn’t push.  He just accepts.  He takes whatever Bucky is willing to give and offers silently in return.  When the world outside is a tumultuous and terrifying place, when his control is shaky at best and he’s got too many memories banging about in his head that he can’t make sense of any of it, Sam is an open door and a warm bed.

Sam is home.

Bucky deepens the kiss, sliding his hand further beneath the thin fabric and down around Sam’s length, feeling the softness of his skin and the way he’s hardening at his touch.  He rocks his own hips forward, the friction sending a spark through his spine he doesn’t expect.  When he gasps at the sensation he catches the way Sam is smiling up at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth even through his own quickening breath.  

Their hands and lips keep moving, kisses and touches that roam everywhere, over familiar planes of skin and into previously unexplored territory that both are eager to know every inch of.  Sooner than Bucky expects Sam’s boxers are lost who knows where - though he’s still got his firmly in place - and his fingers are slick and teasing, forehead pressed against Sam’s, holding his breath.  

Sam looks him in the eye then nods with a slow blink.

They’d talked about this, briefly, from time to time.  Hell, Bucky had lost count of the times they’d started and stopped just as quickly.

He wanted this, all of this, the pain and the pleasure and the bliss of getting lost within one another.  But as much as Bucky had thought about it, fantasized and dreamed, he had always been terrified - still is if he’s being honest.  It would leave him bare and exposed in more than the physical sense, lost to his own pleasure he couldn’t be sure something wouldn’t slip, some of his control wouldn’t break and find himself in the blank state of mind he’d been so ensconced in for decades.  

He’s trembling, though he’s not fully aware of how badly.  Despite the fact that it’s his body being pressed open, wide and exposed around Bucky’s fingers, Sam keeps saying soothing things, quiet and careful, into Bucky’s ear between light kisses.

"Sam.. Sam I - "

"It’s okay.  It’s - "  His breath hitches when Bucky bends his knuckles without thinking.  "You can stop if you need to.  I’ll still be right here."  

He pauses but doesn’t pull away, lifting his head to look into Sam’s eyes.  There, like always, is nothing but patience, understanding, and something else that neither of them will put into words and Bucky can’t even bring himself to think about.  Bucky kisses him then, full and hard, close lipped at first until Sam darts his tongue out and then it’s all he can bring himself to focus on.  There are hands carded in his hair, clinging and pulling him impossibly closer.  Bucky is reeling from it all, moving his hand again, slipping in and out with a steady rhythm that Sam picks up and goes with easily, moaning into Bucky’s mouth with a soft and desperate sound.  

Eventually Sam can barely keep the kiss going, whining with his head held back, neck exposed and his breath impossible to catch.  It’s a fucking beautiful sight to see.  ”Buck… Please…”  It’s not even a full request, but it’s the first time in nearly a year Sam has ever asked anything of him and it took Bucky taking him to the edge to bring him there.  

He smiles and slips his fingers free, catching Sam’s whine with another kiss as he pushes his underwear down and kicks it off the bed.   With trembling hands and a heartbeat that is running out of control he slicks himself thoroughly and pushes carefully forward, sinking slowly into Sam’s welcoming and warm body with his eyes clenched closed and head pressed hard into the cradle of Sam’s neck.  Again it’s Sam with the the gentle touch and the soothing words, even as his voice grows more and more pinched and desperate.  ”Fuck, you feel good Bucky.  So good…”  

They move achingly slow at first, Sam adjusting and Bucky clinging to his control.  It’s not the kind of control he had expected to be searching for, though, it’s not the control of his mind that he needs but his body and his heart.  His mind is exactly where it needs to be, narrowed down and completely focused entirely on just the two of them, on the heavy scent of their sweat mixing together, the rasping sound of the breathing and the occasional squeak of the mattress beneath the movement of their bodies.  He slides his hand down and around Sam’s leg, lifting it and his hips to get a new angle and then even the sounds are lost in the haze of pleasure.  

Sam comes with a curse and quiet groan, spilling hot and wet between them and Bucky follows him almost instantly, his orgasm pushed over the edge by the sound of Sam’s pleasure more than anything else. Bucky is silent in his release, trembling through it and clinging to Sam with everything he has, barely conscious of not holding on so tight that he’ll leave more than a faint bruise.  It rolls through his spine and releases in waves of sensations he couldn’t put words to if he tried until it’s all too much and he stills, Sam clinging to his shoulder while they both finally try and catch their breath.  

By the time he can see straight again, Sam is shaking beneath him, the soft sound of laughter drifting throughout the room.  Bucky pinches him lightly in the side, teasingly, and grumbles into his neck something that at least sounds like a question.

"Sorry.  But… you know..  Fuck Bucky, but you are so worth waiting for."

He pulls up just enough to glance at him through a half hearted glare, still feeling more than a little punch drunk.  Sam’s smile softens, “And for everything, not just this.”  He flexes his muscles around where Bucky is slowly softening inside him, pulling a hiss and a groan from Bucky.  

"You’re an ass."  Bucky teases, slowly slipping free.

"No, I’m pretty sure - " Sam is cut off by the shrill sound of Bucky’s ring tone from the night stand, the special one meant just for Steve.  (Not that he has more than half a dozen numbers in there to begin with.)

Bucky groans and reaches over to silence it, remembering at the very last moment that he’s about to slam it with his metal hand and instead grips it carefully, pressing the button on the side instead of the screen.

He’s still mostly on top of Sam, who has a leg still hooked around his hip and is running his fingers through the lengths of Bucky’s hair.  ”We’re supposed to go to Brooklyn today.”  He admits quietly.  ”Last time it - it didn’t go well.”

Sam kisses his temple, quiet and reassuring.  ”I’ll come with you.”

"You always do."  Bucky smiles despite the anxiety building in his gut, less than normal and no where near as tight as it could have been.  

"And I always will." 


End file.
